Thirteen Roses Book Three: Beyond: A Paranormal Zombie Saga (10 page)

She didn’t know when she’d been in hospital. She wasn’t even sure it was for her, or someone else. Maybe mum or dad had needed an operation. But she remembered the long corridors with all the signs with words she didn’t understand. And she remembered the smell, like everyone was trying to hide something.
 

She paused, crouching down to peer around the corner. A zombie shuffled down the corridor towards her, backless gown flapping about like a pair of wings. It should have been comical but it made her fists clench and the heat rise to her neck. She fingered the knife that was stuffed in her belt. Luke had given it to her willingly enough, like he knew what she was doing.
 

She had to get over the fear. This was the world now, and she’d seen what it’d done to Bayleigh and Alex. They were terrified. She wouldn’t be like that, she couldn’t be. She’d never been scared of anything in her life. Except dad. But running away from him had been the best choice she could make and she’d done it. She didn’t need to run away from these things. She just needed to get stronger.
 

She slipped around the corner and it spotted her immediately. It shambled quicker than she expected but she dodged and it stumbled past. Its clawed hand caught her top as it passed, but she skipped free and around the back. Then she shoved it as hard as she could. The zombie staggered forwards but didn’t go down.
 

With a hiss, she leapt forward and shoved again, using both hands this time. It staggered and lost its footing, thudding onto its knees. One of them cracked and her nose wrinkled as the smell of rot wafted up. The zombie’s arms still flailed about, but there was room behind it. Her knife went in through the soft bit at the top of its neck. The curved blade carried it up into the brain and the zombie’s arms dropped to its sides.
 

She held the hilt with both hands as the horrible thing fell forwards, and it slid off the blade with a sound like a boot being pulled from thick mud. Blood ran down its naked back and off its waist to pool on the floor. The first part of her plan was complete.
 

She nipped back to her corner and crouched out of sight of the body. How quickly would they smell it? Would they smell it at all?
 

She wasn’t sure all this planning about the soldiers was worth the time. There weren’t that many and they barely seemed to care about the seven of
them
except for study purposes. The zombies were the future. They weren’t going anywhere and they knew next to nothing about them. This is what they should be spending their time doing.

She peered around the corner, butterflies doing cartwheels in her stomach. She rubbed her face again. She’d slept amazingly well and eaten more sandwiches in one day than she normally did in a week. But they were packaged sandwiches and she hadn’t realised how spoiled she’d been by Bayleigh’s. The idea she could be spoilt made her laugh, but it was true. Good sandwiches were hard to come by when you didn’t have a kitchen, or bread.
 

The first zombie appeared. It was almost running, staggering down the corridor as though someone had hold of its nose and was pulling it along. It fell on the body, shoving its face into the blood before taking a chunk out of the creature’s back. She heaved and put her hand over her mouth. Seeing it here, in the stark white light of the hospital, made it somehow worse. Maybe it was just because she was watching closely, but she could see the teeth dig in and slide back and forth to cut through the flesh.
 

Another zombie came from the other direction and fell to feasting. Two would be perfect, but she waited until the corpse was in pieces and she was sure this was all she was going to get. She took a deep breath and slipped from her hiding place. This time she went unnoticed, both creatures far too interested in their feast.
 

The first she killed the same way as the half-eaten one. The knife slid in easy enough and the body collapsed into the wound, mouth opening to spill half-eaten remains back into the corpse. That made her lose a sandwich or two and she turned to spit the vomit onto the floor. The other zombie looked up and saw her. She thought, if it was possible, that its eyes lit up as it rose.
 

She could do this. She’d done it once already today. There was just something about the blood it had smeared all over its chin that made her shrink away until her back struck the wall. The zombie lurched at her and she would have sworn it was leering. She ducked under the arms and tried to slide sideways but it ran into her and shoved her against the wall.
 

Her nose filled with the smell of rot. She gagged as its stomach pressed against her face. She jammed the knife into its leg and was rewarded with a squirt of blood that she twisted violently to avoid. She failed and it splashed onto her own leg, soaking warm through her jeans.
 

She squirmed and shoved and her hands jammed into its skin, but it wasn’t going anywhere. Its hands batted at her head until its fingers caught in her hair and dragged her up. She whimpered, lashing out with both hands. The zombie slipped and shoved her to one side. It was enough to jerk her into action and she scrambled away, screaming as a chunk of her hair ripped out.
 

With one hand clutching her head she raced away down the corridor before skidding to a halt, heaving and gasping. What was she doing? She was out here to get better, to beat her fear, and she was running away. She spun around and watched it lurch closer. She could out run it, she knew she could, but she didn’t want to.
 

Actually, she did. She wanted to run more than anything, but that wouldn’t help, not if she was outside and anywhere she ran there would be more of them. So she set her feet, lifted her knife, and watched it come. With every step it took, a fresh gout of blood pumped from the wound and ran down its leg. Its foot made a slapping sound as it hit the lino, leaving behind a bloody footprint.
 

Her legs shook. She could do this. But she couldn’t stand still for it.
 

She ran at the zombie, bearing her teeth and finding her anger. She raced past and lashed out with her knife. It hit something and she stopped and peered behind her. The zombie was swaying, but didn’t fall over. It turned slowly to face her and she groaned, covering her mouth. The side of its face was torn open. Her knife had hacked through its cheek to show the yellowing teeth beneath.
 

She ran again, crouching at the last minute and slamming the knife into the side of its knee. It hit something hard, but she yanked it out and drove it in again. This time it went through. She hauled on it but it was stuck fast and with a curse she ran off, leaving her knife buried deep. The zombie tried to turn, but she’d messed up something in its leg. The body turned but the leg stayed where it was and the cracking sound was loud in the corridor.

Her nose wrinkled as the leg ripped off at the knee and the zombie toppled and hit the side of the corridor. Her knife clattered to the floor. The stump stayed up, spraying blood all over the place, and she had to dodge around it to scoop up the knife. It was covered in sticky warmth and she retched as she wrapped her fingers around the handle.
 

The zombie heaved itself away from the wall and flailed at her with its hands. She admired its tenacity for all of a second before she scrambled around it and jammed her knife into its temple. Its face hit the floor with a crunch. She stood above the body, chest heaving.
 

She’d done it. She hadn’t panicked, not at the end. She’d done exactly what she needed and she was still standing whilst three zombies were dead. The sound of feet dragging along the floor made her jump and she turned to see two more zombies coming for her.
 

She dashed down the brightly lit corridor, not bothering to check behind. They would feast on the bodies and ignore her, which was just fine. Maybe when her heart stopped beating quite so fast she could figure out a way to kill them, too.
 

She reached a landing from which two escalators ran down to an enormous open area. Beyond it lay the front door. It felt more like a shopping centre than a hospital, except it still had that smell.
 

There were zombies down there. She backed away. She should get back to the rooms. They’d notice she was gone and do something stupid. She was almost round the corner when she noticed the front door sliding open. Probably a zombie walking too close to the sensors. Then one of the soldiers strode in, gun at the ready. Others followed.
 

She counted fifteen before she raced back down the corridor, heart hammering like a whole troupe of zombie drummers had set up shop in her ribcage.
 

Luke

They hated him. Not all of them. Bayleigh thought he wasn’t a complete arsehole and he and Alex had come to some sort of agreement, but Jackson and David had him as the worst kind of scum. It made him smile a little, but he was surprised at how much he cared. Why did it matter?

He sniffed and dug his thumb into the soft spot between his thumb and forefinger on the other hand. It made his eyes feel funny but it cleared his mind. It mattered because he was changing. When he arrived here, he knew exactly who he was. He was Lucifer again, finally freed from centuries of subjugation by a power he loathed and fought against.
 

But almost from that moment on, he’d begun to change. His loathing of his Father had drained away, like pus from a wound, despite his best efforts to cling to it. That had been his reason, even before his fall. It was that hatred and doubt over what he stood for that made him rebel. Now it was gone.
 

He hated himself. He was becoming a non-person. He couldn’t even find the passion for what he’d done as a Guardian. Even though it had been an artificial passion, all part of his rehabilitation, it had felt no less real. And it had defined him. He’d been good at his job.
 

He was becoming human.
 

He remembered sitting in the audience chamber in the Dome, sneering at the beings around him acting just like humans. He’d thought then there was no difference, but he realised now that what he had thought were feelings were only shadows. The frustration he’d felt at his list being tampered with was a pale reflection of what he was beginning to experience. He shivered. Would it get worse? Stronger?

There was every chance it would. He couldn’t imagine being held captive by his feelings but it was already happening. Worse, though, was how pathetic his feelings were. He wanted to be liked. He wanted to do good, to make the change for which the Father had sent him here. He sniffed and rubbed his temples. He should be joining the discussion, but he’d already decided what they were going to do. He understood enough about being human, though, to know they needed to reach that point on their own.
 

‘We need the devices. There’s no point in rescuing a bunch of people if they get eaten by the bloody zombies.’ Bayleigh slammed her fist into her palm and Jackson snorted.
 

‘We can protect them. Getting the devices takes too long and takes us away from saving the ladies.’

‘God, stop calling them that, you sound like one of them.’

‘What should I call them, then?’

‘I don’t know, hostages, women?’

‘Guys, please, it doesn’t matter what we call them.’ Alex waved his hands, pleading for peace. Luke gave a wry grin. ‘It doesn’t matter. What matters is that once we’ve rescued them, we’re stuck with a hundred people about whom we know nothing. They’re young, right, young enough to be scared and not have a clue what’s going on, waking up after however long being asleep. Getting them out will be tough enough. Having some of the devices will make a huge difference.’

He spoke to Jackson, then turned to Bayleigh. ‘How sure are you about the machine in the cave?’

‘I’m sure.’ She brandished the device. ‘We charge this bad boy and any others we can get then we wreck the machine. Sooner or later, they’re gonna run out.’

‘Yeah, but what if ours run out first?’

‘Come on, Jackson, think about it logically. We’ve just charged ours to full. There’s no way theirs can last longer.’

He shook his head. ‘It’s too damn hopeful. There’s no guarantees.’

Luke leant forwards and everyone’s eyes turned to him. ‘Of course there aren’t. There’s so many things that can go wrong. But what other choice do we have?’

No one had the chance to answer because the door slammed open and Krystal raced in. She was covered in blood and reeked of zombie.
 

‘Soldiers, soldiers are here, downstairs.’

The tiny room became far too small as everyone got up at the same time. Bayleigh and Alex rushed through to where Ed still lay unconscious on the bed. Luke quizzed Krystal, his heart sinking as she revealed how many of them she’d seen. They were in trouble. Krystal described it as screwed, but he thought being screwed was an entirely pleasant scenario. This wasn’t pleasant.

Alex and Bayleigh emerged bearing Ed between them. Jackson grumbled and took him in his huge arms so he almost disappeared. Luke stuck his head out the door, waving at the others to be quiet. Silence fell across them and he strained, ears twitching. Despite his humanity, he hadn’t lost the enhancements being an angel brought him. He could hear the hospital.
 

The energy thrummed through the lights, setting up a hum that did its best to block out everything else. But he could hear the water in the pipes and an abandoned machine beeping far away in another room. He could also hear the unnaturally quiet footsteps of several men making their way up the stairs. They were still some distance away, so there was time enough to escape.
 

He didn’t think about what escaping meant. And he didn’t look at Ed, pale and skinny and cradled in Jackson’s arms. His link to his home was wasting away and there was nothing he could do about it. If the boy died, he’d be stuck here. He was becoming human, but he had no intention of staying that way.